Always
by Iris Woodmont
Summary: [Human AU] The morning of Friday February 13th is a day that changed Alfred Jones' life forever. After being visited by a ghastly figure, he is given 16 days left on this planet. With time running out, he is faced with the difficult task of reuniting with his long time college friend, Arthur Kirkland, a man who he hasn't spoken to since graduation.
1. Crimson Letters

"Gah!" Alfred shot up from his pillow, his face numb from the cold. Upon further inspection he realized he had been crying. "Not again" he sighed as he glanced over to his clock.

3:00am.

For the past three weeks every night at 3:00am, Alfred had awoken with tears streaming down his face. A reoccurring dream that seemed all too real was the cause for his unrest. He sat there quietly for a few moments, staring a hole into his wall.

 _"Why do I keep having that dream?"_ he thought as he rubbed the back of his neck. He reached over to his dresser, grabbing his glasses that a somehow shifted positions since he last placed them there. After resting them comfortably on his face, he neatly pushed the silky covers aside, and rose from his bed. He hated the feeling of dried up tears on his face, so he decided to wander over to his bathroom to wash them away, also hoping the sudden burst of water would help settle his uneasy mind.

Once he arrived at the bathroom door, he noticed a light shining through the crack near the wooden floor. While the average homeowner would find a stray light left on to be normal, Alfred found it rather ominous. Every night he made sure every door was good and shut and that every light was turned off before drifting off to sleep, and he was certain he had done this routine that same evening.

As he slowly pushed the door open, Alfred stopped dead in his tracks when he noticed something written on the bathroom mirror in crimson letters.

 _ **February 13th**_

Alfred stood there in shock as he stared at the bleeding letters. "What the hell." he said as his mind began to race. After a few moments of disbelief, he rushed out of the bathroom, slamming the door behind him.

He raced back to his bedroom, his sock covered feet sliding against the polished wood floor as he scooted to a stop. While he didn't believe in ghosts and that none sense, this was a different kind of paranormal activity that seemed all too real. He had to assure himself that last night really was just a dream.

A calendar would be his savior, and luckily for him he owned several. He just wasn't sure where they were at. In frantic desperation, he flung open every drawer and cabinet in sight, spilling every article inside onto the clean floor.

After successfully digging through years worth of junk he finally found it. He quickly flipped to February running his fingers across the weeks until he hit the current date.

Friday, February the 13th.

Dropping the calander to the floor, Alfred realized the horrendous truth. He closed his eyes as he aggressively tugged at his hair. "No, it can't be _..._ " he shouted as he paced back and forth, "it was just a stupid dre-" before he could finish his thought, he was immediately interrupted by an all too familiar voice.

"Oh but it wasn't."

Alfred's eyes shot open as he frantically searched his room for the owner of the voice. A menacing laugh filled the air. "The time has come hero. Don't bother trying to fight it."

Alfred continued to search, but was still unsuccessful. He slowly backed himself into a corner as his mind raced with fear. Then he finally spoke. "Who are you, and what do you want from me?" he demanded as he still continued to scan the room for a trace of anything.

The voice chuckled, "You mean you don't remember? Wow. How could you possibly forget?" A swift breeze blew through the room, causing Alfred's hair to brush against his face.

A door slammed open in the distance, followed by an even stronger gust of wind. "If you really don't remember, go back to the bathroom." Alfred hesitantly took a few steps away from the door frame, not wanting to go anywhere near the bathroom.

A laugh filled the room once again, this time as if to mock the petrified American. "Is this truly the hero that traded his soul to save the life of that back-stabbing son of a bitch?" The voice scoffed, "What a pity. We thought you'd actually put up a fight..."

Alfred's eyes flashed wide in realization. He now understood that the events of his dream, were not in fact a dream, but the hard truth that is reality. "S-so, it really wasn't a dream" he stated as his fists clenched in pain. Tears began to pool in his eyes, but he was unable to let them fall. Now was not the time for crying.

"Of course it wasn't a dream!" the voice roared, "You honestly think that something as serious as this wouldn't actually affect you?"

Alfred shut his eyes once more as he recalled the events of his "dream." While last nights dream was almost identical to the others, he remembered that there had been a different outcome for this one. An outcome that he now had to face the consequences for.

After a moment of panic, his mind finally settled, as an idea slowly started to take shape.

With his head tilted towards the floor, Alfred spoke up with a tone of utter seriousness. "Before you speak again, know that I am not denying my action in last nights events." He opened his eyes again, with only a look of self sacrifice reflecting to the nothing that patiently listened. "While it seemed like merely a dream to me, now that it is reality I am still just as willing to make the same decision."

He took in a heavy breath as he continued his thought, "And while I know I cannot change what is to come, I would like to make you an offer." A dark shadow slowly faded in front of him, causing his heart to jump. Even with this, he kept his face straight to show the being he was serious and willing to bargain if it were up to it.

The dark mass grew closer to his ears whispering, "A deal is a deal Jones. We told you we would come for your soul tonight." Alfred stepped through the figure, making his way back over to his nightstand, the creature lurking closely behind. He reached for a picture frame positioned next to his bed as he spoke once again, "And that's exactly what I would like to change."

"You think you can simply change the deal you made with us?" the voices questioned.

Alfred looked down to the picture neatly sitting inside of the gold trimmed frame. In all honestly he didn't think he'd be able to "simply" change his fate, but he sure as hell was going to try. "I said I was willing to make a deal with you, did I not?" he question as he let his fingers softly caress the frame.

The shadow inched closer to Alfred, slightly growing in size. "And what kind of a deal would that be?"

Alfred smirked. Perhaps he could reason with this unholy apparition. "You said you came for my soul right?" He looked straight into the center of the mass, eyes fixed in an unbreakable trance. "Well what if I let you take not just my soul, but my body as well?"

The black shadow began to contort at the sound of the newly offered price. Slowly it began to take the shape of that similar to a human body. "Hmm, and what would you like in return for your... precious body?"

Without stuttering he sharply responded to the figure, "I want you to give me until the end of this month before you return to take what I owe you."

The silhouette took a few steps towards Alfred, with something resembling a smile on its featureless face. "And is that all?" it hissed.

Alfred nodded, extending his arm to the creature. "You have my word."

An arm branched out from the black mass accepting Alfred's out reached hand. "Well , it seems as though you have yourself a deal." Their hands shook one another as a power surge raced through the house, exciting every light and electronic.

The body slowly began to dissolve once more into an undefined shape, steadily inching away from the cold faced American. "Alright hero, you have until the end of February until I return once more. On that day at exactly three in the morning, I shall be back to collect your end of the deal." Alfred took in another deep breath, helping to give him the assurance that he was making the right decision. The voiced continued, as its body began to disappear, "And remember, the next time I come. You won't be able to buy anymore time."

As soon as the mass completely vanished, winds with the strength of a small tornado filled the room. Alfred dropped to his knees clinging on to the picture he had been holding for so long. The objects recently hurled onto the floor flew around him, all neatly returning to their respective locations. Then without warning, the lights shut off leaving him in complete darkness. The only thing left on the ground was the god forsaken calendar that revealed the current date.

Alfred sat there frozen for a few moments as he gathered his thoughts. He unwrapped his arms from the picture which was still clutched in his now trembling hands. He stared at the photo as tears rained upon the glass. The lights finally turned back on, giving him some relief. As he shakily rose back onto his feet, the sound of dripping water could be heard in the distance.

Alfred left his room to inspect the newly discovered noise, tracing speckles of red on the floor back towards his bathroom. Once he reached the door, he paused not truly wanting to see the horror that awaited him inside. He moved his hand to flip the light switch, revealing freshly written letters dripping from the mirror in a dark crimson. His eyes opened in shock as he processed the meaning of the new date.

 _ **February 29th**_

His vision grew blurry the longer he stared. He took a few steps out of the bathroom, heading back for his room until all of a sudden he collapsed. The last word to leave his mouth was the number _"sixteen."_

 _(Story also available on Wattpad, by Iris_Woodmont)_


	2. It's a Gamble

Alfred awoke to find himself face planted onto the hard wooden floor. He lay there for a moment trying to recall what had caused him to pass out in such a bizarre position. Sure he had some crazy nights in the past, but he knew for a fact last night was not that kind of night. The sound of the air conditioning unit turning on rumbled above him as he continued to lay in silence.

Wiping the sleep from his eyes, Alfred slowly lifted himself from the cold ground. The sun shined through the frost covered window, warming his skin underneath its clear rays. After finding his balance, he made his way to the bathroom. Upon turning on the light, he remembered why he woke up on the floor.

He let out a heavy sigh as he turned the bathroom light off and shut the door. His eyes were filled with sadness at the memories of last night. Tears began to pool in his eyes but he blinked them back. Crying wouldn't change his fate. Nothing could. As he stated last night, dream or not, he would make the same decision a million times again if it meant he would save the life of another. Especially if it were the life of someone so dear to him.

He made his way back over to his room, looking around for the frame he had clung onto for so long in those intense moments. His eyes scanned the area until he found it lying face down on his bed.

Alfred walked over to it, turning it over as he lifted the tiny frame off the crinkled sheets. He flipped the object around, revealing a photograph of Arthur and himself from their freshmen year of college. A smile appeared on his face as his eyes looked upon his favorite picture. Every other photo he had ever seen of his friend, showed the same image; someone trying to capture a perfectly happy moment while Arthur always stood unamused and somewhat depressed looking. But this photo of the two of them was different. The two of them had just pledged to the same fraternity, and while the picture was taken despite the Brit's unwillingness to stand for a photo, one couldn't really tell because in this rare photo, Arthur was truly smiling.

While he was obviously saddened by the thought of having sixteen more days left on the earth, he was more saddened by the fact that this meant he only had sixteen more days left to try and see Arthur.

Around the end of their sophomore year in college, Alfred had begun to develop feelings for the Brit, but like most people, he kept these feelings to himself. While it wasn't the most acceptable form of emotions on campus, his fraternity was special in the sense that two other couples were in the same situation. Two Italian brothers had fallen for two of the officers in the group. The oldest brother named Lovino, ended up with the chapter Secretary Antonio, a rather charming guy from Spain, and his younger brother Feliciano had fallen for the most respected member in the group, their President, Ludwig, a German. Unlike those couples who clearly showed feelings for each other since the beginning, Alfred had no idea whether or not Arthur shared feelings, and he sure as hell didn't want to embarrass himself if he didn't. So he kept his emotions quiet, telling himself he would say something when he felt the time was right, or when Arthur clearly felt the same way.

"I guess the time is now," he said aloud, gently standing the frame back onto the mahogany dresser. Once the picture was resting on the stand, he made his way downstairs to get ready for his day. The thought of him finally telling Arthur rested in his mind. Was it really the right time? Would it ever be the right time? He knew him better than any other brother, yet he still couldn't tell if he felt the same way, let alone if he even felt _that way_ about guys at all. Even if he did know for a fact that Arthur felt the same, he wasn't sure how he would even go about revealing such feelings.

After arriving in the under-furnished kitchen, Alfred shuffled through a few drawers until he found his heavily worn coffee pot. He filled the kettle with water, and gently placed it on the stove to begin boiling water for his morning coffee. If there was one thing that helped keep him running all of these years, it was coffee. Even after the most obscure nights, it would always help him reset the following morning. He reached for the remote conveniently resting on the counter, and turned on the television to the national news. With so much going on in the world, he thought it was important to always be up to date with the latest in politics and environmental issues. The resolution on the screen slowly cleared, as he continued to plan out how he would possibly get in contact with Arthur so that he could finally put his feelings into actual words.

Then in a sudden moment, he remembered that he was attending the annual reunion with all of his Greek life brothers tomorrow. This was exciting for two reasons. One; he would get to see his friends again after not seeing any of them since graduation. Two; Arthur. He too was apart of their frat, so Alfred hoped that he would be attending as well. The situation was perfect. He would simply talk with him tomorrow evening at the party. After a few moments of catching up, he would then bring up what had been bothering him for so long, and hope for the best from there. The plan seemed perfect. After all it would be Valentine's Day, so even if the plan didn't go just as expected, the whole situation wouldn't seem out of place.

The television continued broadcasting in the background as the kettle began to whistle. He reached to turn the stove off as he continued to process tomorrow evening. Could it really be that easy to finally get in contact with Arthur? The same party had occurred every year, but he never showed, even when he was still living in the states. Why would this year be any different? As Alfred's mind continued to wander, the news blared the same announcement as it did every morning.

"This is Today, February 14th, Valentines Day, on NBC"

As that sentence reached his ear, a slight sense of panic filled his mind. "Wait-" he ran closer to the television, clutching onto the screen as if that could somehow change the day that had just been announced for the whole world to hear. Did he somehow miss an entire day without even realizing? " _How is it already the fourteenth?_ " From what he could remember of the previous night, he had passed out right after the unmentionable event. Then he awoke today. " _Damn..."_ Time truly does fly when one is unconscious on the floor.

He let out a long groan as he slammed his hand on the tv's power button, making sure he turned it completely off. Sleeping through an entire day is never a pleasant surprise, especially not when you only have 16...15 days to do everything you need. This realization hit Alfred like a truck, as he stayed knelt by the television. A flood of thoughts once again filled his mind, but none of them truly expressed the new emotion he was feeling. Alfred got up and after a few seconds of thought, and quickly walked to his refrigerator, reaching for a pink pastel card hanging by a magnet. A few weeks ago Francis had hand delivered the invitation to the reunion, informing him that this year's theme would be formal masquerade. It was also the 20th anniversary of the group's reunion, so everyone should attend. Why the group decided to hold the meet up on Valentine's Day each year was beyond him, but what he did know is that Francis was the only one who knew exactly who all would be attending.

He let out a huge sigh as he clasped his hands around his neck. He did not want to do what he was about to do, but he knew there would be no other way of finding out whether or not Arthur would be coming in town. While he had managed to get the Brit's number before going their separate ways on Graduation, the last time he tried calling, he was informed that the phone number was no longer Arthur's and that he must have changed it without telling him. He looked up to the ceiling, trying to figure out his next move. While he could straight up ask Francis whether or not a certain British member would be there, he figured it would be best if he didn't as to not raise any unwanted suspicion.

He reached for the phone hanging on the freshly painted wall, and let out a long sigh as he slowly punched in the Frenchmen's digits. Given Francis' very outgoing personality, he was not the best person to have a phone call with, especially not with everything going on in Alfred's mind. Thinking back to the last time he shared a phone call with Francis, only made him want to avoid the call altogether but his situation convinced him otherwise.

"I'll call him and quickly state my business as to not drag out any unnecessary topics," he reassured himself as he swiftly finished punching the digits into the phone. As the dial tone continued, Alfred roughly rubbed his temples bracing himself for the conversation ahead. The things people do for those they care about. The ringing continued, and for a brief moment he thought Francis was too busy to take the call, but right as he was about to hang up a voice answered from the other line.

As if already fully aware of who was calling, Francis spoke first into the telephone, "Ah hello mon cher! How are you this lovely afternoon?"

The briefness of the opening statement quite honestly surprised Alfred, but he answered coolly as to not give away any clues as to why he was calling. "Hey dude. I've seen better days, but not complaining to be here. I hope you're fine as well?" While he did honestly care about how Francis was, he was too interested in inquiring about the potential guest list to want a full answer from him.

"Why I am doing absolutely fantastic my dear, it is the day of lovers you know?" Francis let out a soft chuckle, as Alfred rolled his eyes at the peppiness in the other man's voice. Normally it didn't bother him considering how long they had been friends, but today he was not in the mood for the sappy romantic antics of his friend. "Oh so it is," Alfred responded bluntly as he twirled the phone cord between his fingers, "Well if that's the case, doesn't that mean that our reunion is tonight as well?"

Somewhat offended at the American's cheerlessness, Francis continued the conversation, "Why yes it does my sweet, and I bet I know what you're going to ask next." Alfred's body froze as he heard those words come through the speaker, " _damn he's good_ ," he took in a breath of air before attempting to curve his way out of the man's sneaky intellect, but before he could get a sound out, Francis interrupted. "And before you try to deny me, I'll give you the answer. And that is yes he will be coming. In fact I just got off the phone with him to confirm."

A small smile curved his lips as Alfred stood up a little straighter, "You're pretty smart for being a blonde" he joked. "Takes one to know one American," Francis countered. It is honestly astounding how in tune Francis could be with people. Not only was Alfred somewhat surprised that he knew his reasoning for calling, but also that Arthur had called him. A new thought appeared in his mind, but he dared not pay attention to it. After sharing a brief moment of laughter, the two quickly said their goodbyes, both somewhat satisfied at the conversation that just occurred.

Right before Alfred ended the call, Francis chimed in one last time, "Oh and Alfred. It took a lot of persuading to get him to come, so please for both of our sake show up." Alfred gave a reassuring smile, though no one could see it, "Wouldn't miss it for the world." Maybe this new thought was worth considering.

Alfred ended the call, and placed the phone gently on the wall. His mind was officially made up, and now it was time for him to prepare for the potential rough night ahead. One can never be certain if feelings are shared between two individuals, especially not when one of the members is one who tends to keep emotions bottled up. Tonight would be a game of chance for Alfred, but if it meant he would at least be able to see Arthur one last time, it was a chance he was willing to take.

He reached for his local phone book and quickly flipped through the pages until he stumbled upon the business he was looking for. If Alfred was really serious about this, he intended to do it right. It was Valentine's Day after all. After getting a clear map in his head of how to get there, he put on his brown leather jacket and headed out the door into the cold February air.

Stepping outside for the first time in two days, Alfred was quickly reminded how cold it could get in the winter. While some of the states get fairly mild winters, ranging anywhere from the low 30's to upper 50's, the northeastern part of the country was not as forgiving. And from what Alfred could feel, today was one of the coldest days of the season.

His breath remained suspended in the air as he quickly made his way to his destination. Small ice patches crackled beneath his feet as he took each careful step. Black ice can be dangerous if you're not paying attention, and the last thing Alfred needed was a broken bone. He continued to walk down the sidewalk paying attention to every little detail around him. To his surprise, there seemed to be no signs of life anywhere along the road even though it was a Saturday.

After walking a few blocks in complete solitude, Alfred's mind began to wander. He thought about the fact that he only had fifteen days left on earth, and about the fact that not even he knew what that exactly meant. But most of all he thought about Arthur. He thought about the very last time he got to see him at their graduation from college, and how despite the fact everyone was gleaming with excitement, Arthur never seemed sadder. They had been in the same fraternity for years, and while the introverted Brit rarely spoke of his feelings, he did speak of how excited he was to finally graduate and move back to England with his brothers. But when graduation day finally came, Arthur was the only one not celebrating. He simply said his goodbyes to his fraternity brothers and walked away, leaving Alfred with a permanent hole in his heart.

Tonight was his best chance to finally confess years worth of feelings to a man who may not even show. Alfred was no fool to Arthur's social seclusion. While Francis reassured him that the Brit would appear, part of him knew that there was a strong likely-hood that he would stay at his hotel like years before. And while this was not the optimal outcome of the evening, fortunately for Alfred, Francis decided to live in the states after they graduated, so if Arthur actually did bail on the party again, Alfred was only a few miles away from home.

He continued his trek down the long and lonesome road, when all of a sudden it began to sleet. It quickly formed a new layer of slick ground, furthering Alfred's cautious steps. Though he was used to cold weather, he was not particularly fond of freezing rain or sleet due to their destructive and dangerous nature. The sleet grew thicker, slowly limiting the vision around him. He immediately dropped the idea of being careful and began to hurry down the sidewalk, hoping to make it to his destination before he froze to death.

The precipitation only grew thicker, and soon enough Alfred was nearly running down the sidewalk. From the looks of the it, he was only a few buildings away from his destination, and at this point all he really wanted was to get out of the cold wet air. His breathing quickened with each passing step, rising in the air like smoke from a chimney. The shop he was looking for was just around the side of the building he was passing. He quickly turned the corner, only to collide with another pedestrian knocking them both onto the slush covered ground.

Alfred frantically searched for his glasses as he examined the ground around him. The sleet accumulated below seeped into his clothes, further adding to the briskness of the air. He continued to run his hands through the pile of slush until is fingers were practically numb, but finally he retrieved his glasses. After smoothly cleaning the lenses off on the dry part of his pants, he quickly began to help gather the other person's belongings which were scattered all over the soaked sidewalk.

As he shuffled through the sleet making sure not to miss any belongings, his hand accidentally met that of the person who he had just knocked over. Quickly pulling his hand away, Alfred let out a small apology that was immediately cut short as his eyes met with the pair staring widely at him. A sudden realization shot through his mind as soon as he stared back into those piercing emeralds. After all of this time, is this really how they would reunite?

"Arthur?" Alfred's heartbeat raced as the two of them continued to sit and stare at one another on the freezing sidewalk. After a few moments, Arthur suddenly turned away from the American, his eyes continuing to search for his belongings, a light shade of pink slowly appearing in his cheeks. Alfred snapped out of his trance, and begun to think of something to say. "I am so sorry for knocking you over!" he quickly added. This was definitely not the encounter he was hoping for. Realizing that they were both still sitting in the accumulating slush, he quickly picked himself up trying to help the other along the way. Arthur reluctantly allowed himself to be helped to his feet by the frantic man, who continued ranting. "I was just in such a hurry seeing as though its sleeting and all, that I didn't think I'd run into anyone along the way, so I decided to run, and then I accidentally ran into you... literally" The Brit rolled his eyes as he tried to reach for the last item laying a few feet away from them.

Alfred noticed the same item and immediately reached a hand out to grab it, "Here let me help you.." His hand was only a few centimeters from the object when all of a sudden the other man let out a very desperate "Stop!" His hand froze in mid air as he looked curiously at Arthur who had a very frantic look on his face. Alfred continued to reach for the bag, but was too slow for the faced paced Brit who stole the object away before his very eyes. A look of confusion rested on his face as he glanced up at Arthur. What was so important about that paper bag?

After one last scan of the sidewalk to make sure all of his belongings were accounted for, Arthur recomposed himself, and let out a small sigh of relief. Alfred continued to stare at the bag that had caused such desperation in the other, but quickly averted his eyes when he realized that the Brit was departing. He too straightened himself out as he lifted a hand in farewell. "Hey sorry for the trouble I caused."

Arthur let out small annoyed smirk, but a small curve appeared on his face. "Its quite alright, just watch where you're going the next time." And with that blunt goodbye, if one could even call it that, the Brit departed, once again leaving Alfred in a sea of overwhelming thoughts. While this encounter was not the one he had initially hoped for, it did serve one purpose; to remind him of the reason this evening was so important. No matter how sour Arthur appeared, Alfred could sense that there was hope in a situation that just hours ago, seemed almost hopeless.


	3. The Reminder

Classic rock played on the radio as Alfred continued to groom himself for the evening ahead. Outside, day was slowing fading into evening, signaling that it was nearly time to leave. The wind blew steadily against a tree, tearing away the last dead leaves that were still clinging to the rigid branch. Upon returning home, Alfred did everything he could to keep an optimistic mindset, considering the previous encounter with Arthur was rather rough. And while many encounters with the Brit were rough, this one was different. Unlike the other times, the edginess coming from Arthur didn't seem to spawn from pure annoyance, but from some other feeling. Embarrassment perhaps?

Nonetheless, Alfred had all the confidence in the world that he would not fail in his mission. Besides, what's the point of losing hope, when you're already losing precious time. After styling his hair as best as he could, he made his way back to his bed where the rest of his outfit waited to be added. The radio continued playing in the background, loudly blasting the rhythmic sounds of late twentieth century rock and roll. On the ground below, sat his nicest pair of dress shoes, charcoal black and recently polished. He sat down on his bed, slipping on his ankle length socks followed by each shoe.

After successfully tying each lace into a flawless bow, Alfred stood back up from the bed, only to be startled by the sound of his alarm clock signaling to him that it was now 7:00pm. He tapped the top of the clock to turn it off, then promptly turned the knob on his lamp, leaving the room nearly dark. Only the light from the newly risen moon shone through the windows. Tonight was extremely important, and he did not want to start it off by being late. While being a few minutes late to his job occasionally was acceptable, tonight, he could simply not allow himself to be even a second behind schedule. Not when time is so precious. He straightened his bowtie one last time in the mirror, and soon made his way out of the room. As soon as his feet reached the dorm frame, once again the alarm clock started ringing.

Puzzled by the sudden burst of energy, he immediately made his way over to the clock, this time firmly pressing the power button ensuring its silence. True he sometimes didn't fully press the snooze button in the morning, but he was certain he had a few seconds ago. But not that it mattered anyway, he had more important things to worry about. He once again set the clock down and started for the door, but as soon as he turned his back, it once again began to ring.

Frustration quickly grew in Alfred as he stomped back towards his nightstand to deal with the malfunctioning machine. He switched back on the lamp to give him a better view of the object. Once again, he pressed the off button, but this time the clock refused to obey. He pressed it harder and harder, until he finally grew impatient and quickly went to retrieve a screwdriver. True, the clock had a few years behind it, but never once had it acted this way. Once he found the tool, he made his way back over to the malfunctioning clock, carefully quickly removing each screw from the back.

He carefully removed the backing of the clock as to not damage the fragile plastic, and with a quick hand removed the pair of AA batteries. But to his absolute horror, the clock continued to ring. " _What the hell is wrong with it?"_

The ringing continued to blare throughout the room, until Alfred couldn't stand another second. Without hesitation, he slammed the clock onto the floor hoping to silence it forever, but what followed was anything but silence. The shattered glass of the face spread across the floor as the pitch of the alarm steadily began to rise. The frequency grew with each passing second, and the higher the sound went, the more deafening it became. It was a sound unfamiliar to Alfred, but he imagined it to be like one-hundred nails running across a chalkboard at the same time. He tried in vain to muffle the sound by any means he could think of, but the screech still reached his eardrums. The noise became a weapon that tortured one of the strongest of men known to this world. Unable to move from the sheer pain in his ears, the American could do nothing but crouch down low to the floor in hopes that the shitstorm would be over.

The tone continued growing higher in pitch, until finally it grew to such a high frequency that it was no longer audible to the human hear. Tears trickled down Alfred's cheek as he lowered his shaky hands from his ears. The world was silent. The wind that was once blowing outside, no longer disturbed the jagged branches. This worried Alfred. After what had just happened, he knew quite well his hearing could have been permanently damaged, if not lost forever. He snapped his fingers together, but to his utter shock, he heard nothing. He snapped harder, moving his hand closer to each ear as he franticly moved both fingers, but no luck. He could hear nothing. He sat for a moment in his self-pity, but his eyes quickly wandered to the cause of this whole fiasco. A scowl covered his face as he placed a sturdy foot on top of the already broken clock. " _Piece of shit"._ He slid his foot back, scrapping the broken object across the floor in un-satisfiable vengeance. Because of this vile thing, he was without his hearing and still stuck at his home when he was supposed to be at Francis'.

"Why the long face hunk?"

Alfred's eyes squinted in confusion as the words reached his ears. A second ago, he couldn't hear his own fingers snap, but he was certain he heard a voice that did not belong to him. Did his hearing suddenly return to him? He brought his hand up to his ear once more and snapped twice, but to his dismay, there was still silence. That couldn't be possible. He made a quick scan of his room to verify whether someone really could have spoken to him, but after a small circle he realized he was still alone.

The evening remained silent as he stood in the middle of his room pondering about what to do. As far as he was concerned he could still speak, but even with that, he wouldn't be able to hear another person's response. And while he was fluent in American Sign Language, the only other person to his knowledge that could speak it was Mathew, his brother, but last time they talked, he mentioned something about traveling to Russia to meet Ivan's family for the Valentine's holiday, meaning he wouldn't be at the party tonight. So there Alfred remained, alone with his troubled thoughts.

"What's the big deal? Just going to act like I don't exist?" the voice questioned. "You've been sitting there for the past five minutes looking like a real drag, and to be honest its getting rather boring."

Alfred quickly pivoted hoping to get a glance at the owner of the mocking voice who appeared once again. But just like the last time, the owner was no where in sight. Thinking the person could have made a run for the door, he moved his way towards the frame, but it spoke once more.

"Where do you think you're going? I'm still in here. But wait, could it be possible that you don't recognize who I am?" Alfred looked at the ground in frustration at sound of the arrogant question. His mind raced trying to place the voice with a face, but no one seemed to match. Impatient with the American's forgetfulness, the voice spoke again with a faked sadness, "Wow, I'm honestly hurt. After everything we've been through, you can so easily forget me?" it continued, a sly tone emitting with every word, "But, then again; I would want to forget you too, if you were the reason I only had fifteen days left on earth."

Each word stung Alfred's ears as they so freely flowed from the tongue of the demon. Just when his week was finally getting better, sure enough the overwhelming feeling of grief came crashing down upon him. What else could this monster possible want from him that he hasn't already taken. Time was everything to Alfred, and right now he was wasting many precious minutes. He opened his mouth to speak, but then remembered it would be pointless seeing as how he wouldn't be able to hear his own words, nor the response. So instead he remained silent.

"You know you can talk right? Just because you don't see me, doesn't mean I can't hear you." The voice paused for a moment, as if searching for the right words to continue, "And, if it's because you simply don't want to speak, then think. I can listen to thoughts as well." Alfred let out an irritated sigh; time to play another game. " _What the hell are you doing here? I thought we made a deal._ " He knew he was unconscious for only one of the sixteen days, so he shouldn't be hearing anything from this bastard for at least another fifteen.

"No need to get feisty hun, I'm just here because I forgot to do something really important the last time we chatted." Alfred paced back and forth from irritation. " _Important?"_ he echoed. While he didn't want to admit it, subconsciously he knew exactly what the "important" thing was. The voice continued with a new-found peppiness, "Well you see my dear, when I last visited you, I was supposed to take something from you as a reminder of your sentence…" There was a slight pause, the thoughts in his subconscious suddenly made their way into his conscious mind, and the voice continued "…and well if you haven't already guessed by now, I decided to take away your hearing as a reminder."

He paused his pacing, and without a second thought, Alfred hissed out "So you're the one responsible for the malfunctioning clock," each word filling his hears as they left his mouth. " _I can hear again…"_ Just like before, he snapped twice in each ear, and to his relief, this time he heard his fingers."How did you do this?" he demanded. The voice let out a slight chuckle to the American's sudden confusion, "If I have the power to take away hearing, you can sure as hell bet that I have the power to give it back at my leisure. But don't go thinking you'll be able to hear all the time. It'll only happen when I need to talk to you." Alfred remained quiet for a moment, a new plan slowly forming in his head to keep one of the most valuable senses from leaving him. "So why take my hearing out of all the things I own?" a slight curve formed on his lips, "Surely there must be something of more value."

The voice allowed a few seconds to pass before responding to the man's suspicious tone. "Well… if you must know, its so I can keep tabs on you during your last sixtee- I mean fifteen days on earth. Plus, with your hearing gone, you'll never forget the deal you made." This was the exact explanation Alfred was searching for. He now had to bargain for the exchange of a less useful sense in return for his hearing. "Ah yes, but what can you accomplish by taking away my hearing? Sure, you'll be able to listen in on conversations, but how will I be talking if I am deaf? Your reminder is worthless to you if you really do intend on using it to "keep tabs" on me."

Silence followed the sudden statement, perhaps signaling some inner thought from the ghost. It spoke again, this time intrigued by the American's sudden change in attitude. "You may have a point there Al. So, if that is the case then, what might you propose be an acceptable form of, let's call it "payment?" The smirk that rested on Alfred's face, stretched even further as the situation began to play into his hands. "Well, out of all the senses, sight and sound are most definitely useless by themselves, and since you said you would be taking only one thing, it seems as though those are no longer options to you." Alfred shifted his weight, turning his head to view the silver moon that had risen above the tree tops. Just a few more minutes and he would be home free. Right as he opened his mouth the speak, he was interrupted by a sudden jolt of pain. He clenched his fists, as the surge ran throughout his body. What the hell was happening?

After a few agonizing seconds, the jolt went away leaving Alfred stunned. "Do you really think you're smart enough to outwit me?" the voice questioned, "Because if so, you are surely mistaken. Just because I gave you your hearing back, doesn't mean I still can't hear your thoughts!" Tears trickled down his cheeks as he stood in disbelief. How could he have been stupid enough to forget? Without realizing it, Alfred had become the cause of the very thing he was trying to prevent.

Laughter filled the room as he continued to shakily stand, ashamed by what his own stupidity had caused. "I do appreciate you pointing out the flaws of taking your hearing though. I honestly hadn't thought of it that way!" Alfred gritted his teeth at the mocking statement. "And now that I've had some time to think on the subject, I've come up with an even better way to keep me in your memories!" As the last word reached his ears, another wave of pain came upon Alfred, but this time it remained only in his head. It filled his head at first like a painful migraine, but then grew to an intensity that caused his hands to wrap around his skull to try and numb the feeling. His glasses fell to the floor as his head began to convulse.

The sensation slowly moved around different parts of his head, until finally resting in the most vulnerable place; his eyes. He let out a blood curdling scream as he fell to his knees. His fingers pressed further and further into his temple attempting to dull the pain that tore through his sockets. A sensation of piercing needles filled each eye causing another agonizing moan. Drops of blood fell to the floor as the pain sharpened, his teeth grinding against each other. He let out a long moan, in attempt to get the demon to stop this torment, but it continued. He was the one to blame in all of this. If only he had been able to keep his thoughts to himself, then this wouldn't be happening to him.

After a few minutes on the floor, Alfred could no longer take the pain. He begged for it all to be over, but the demon only laughed. "You want it to be over? But we've only just begun…" The pain intensified further, sending Alfred's whole body into convulsions. His eyes could no longer feel the pain that was being inflicted on them, instead they felt cold. He felt like he had been broken. But in these dark moments, his mind kept thinking of the party, and his reunion with his friend. While this was more painful than anything he had ever experienced, it was worth it all in the end.

The convulsions in his body slowly relaxed, and the wave of intense pressure was lifted from his head. He lay there on the ground somewhat disoriented from what had just occurred. Had he sacrificed his sight? His eyelids fluttered open, and a slightly blurry view of the room filled his vision. His hands searched the ground for his glasses which rested underneath the bed. Once in his grasp, his shaky hands reached up and placed them back on his face. His sight was normal. "I'm sure your quite confused by what the meaning of that display was," the voice chimed, "But trust me, you did lose something. But rather than me telling you, I'll let you figure that out on your own."

Alfred checked every inch of his body to make sure everything was in it's proper place. He snapped a few times verifying his hearing was still there, and was easily able to determine that the other four were present as well. He then remembered that a majority of his pain had been in his head, more specifically his eyes, but he was still able to see, so what could have changed? A drop of blood fell from his face onto the top of his hand. He slid his palm across the floor smearing some undried blood that pooled. His lifted his hand to his face, wiping away a stream of blood which slowly trickled down his cheek. As if instinct, he picked himself up and immediately headed for the bathroom. He had to look at himself in the mirror.

An eerie silence filled the hallway as he quickly walked to the closed door. Once at the door frame, he reached for the handle and threw it open. He stood for a minute in the darkness, not sure if he truly wanted to look at himself. But curiosity got the better of him, and so the light was switched on. Frozen by the shock of his reflection, Alfred remained silent. The ghost spoke once again, "Now don't look so surprised. This is generous considering how you tried to make me look like a fool. Besides, I think this reminder is much more convenient for the both of us." Alfred clenched the sink as he continued to blankly stare at his reflection. "Don't worry, it's not permanent," the voiced assured, "It'll only be this way when I feel the need to check in." His clench tightened on the sink, knuckles white from the unrelenting grip. He closed his eyes to shield himself from the image that stood in front of him.

The voice let out one final mocking laugh before sending his goodbyes to the American. As the being left, another power surge flew through the house causing the lights to flash to a steady rhythm. But rather than turning back on after a few seconds, the house suddenly went dark. Before its disappearance, the voice chimed in once again, this time in a last-minute attempt to push the American over the edge, "Oh and Alfie dear, don't forget I've got my 'eye' on you!" And with those final words, Alfred punched the mirror with as much force as he could muster, shattering it into hundreds of misshapen fragments. Blood tickled down his hand, but he failed to notice. The only thing that was visible in this dark abyss was a glowing blood red eye staring back at Alfred as he gazed upon his own reflection.


	4. Obstacles

The red eye glowed in the darkness as Alfred stood motionless in the restroom. The color seemed to mock him, reminding himself not only of his fate to be, but his stupidity as well. If only he had been less arrogant, he might not have to deal with this wretched disfigurement. How was he supposed to hide such a dramatic change? There was no way he could come up with a fib to make his sudden change in appearance understandable, nor could he simply tell the truth; this was a situation that had no escape. Yet, as he continued to stare at his ghastly reflection, his mind began to stray away from these self-pitying thoughts to those more hopeful and somewhat proud. While this situation was no doubt bad, deep down Alfred still knew he had made the right decision. Even if it meant his own disappearance, he would never change what he had done.

The lights finally returned to the house accompanied by a soft throbbing in Alfred's head. He looked to the mirror and watched in amazement as the red iris faded back into his natural blue hue. A sigh of relief left his lungs as he watched the satisfying transition. _"Guess that means the bastard's gone."_ A disapproving frown marked his lips as he was now able to see his current appearance in the shattered glass. He was no longer ready for the evening.

His hand reached for the door when a sharp stinging sensation filled his knuckles causing him to wince. He looked down to his bloody fist suddenly remembering he had been the cause of the broken mirror. Unfortunately, despite the amount of power that flew from his punch, the crimson letters remained intact on the fragmented glass. Not wanting to be reminded any further of that situation, he quickly tended to his hand, and made his was out of the restroom, closing the door behind him. He would no longer be using that bathroom.

He quickly walked back into his room, once again examining himself in the mirror, analyzing which parts of his looks needed the most attention. Surprisingly, his hair had managed to survive the chaos, but unfortunately his pants and jacket were covered with dust. He hurriedly browsed through his closet as he began to undress himself. The only other acceptable outfit he had left to wear was a white tuxedo he had purchased a few years prior. While it seemed like a good purchase at the time, now he was not too fond it, but since it was the only other option he had, he had to make do. Just as quickly as he removed the other suit, like lightning, he threw on the new ensemble.

Finally, he was ready to leave for the party. He began to make his way down the stairs when he heard the phone ringing in the kitchen. He rushed over, simultaneously grabbing his keys from the counter and picked up the call. "Hello?"

"Alfred! Where the hell are you?" an angry Francis questioned with high annoyance.

"Hey Francis, sorry I got caught up in something, but I'm about to leave," he smoothly stated, trying not to signal he was slightly distressed. "I'm not too late am I?"

"Well considering it is already nine-thirty, I'd say you are indeed late." The bluntness of the man's words caught Alfred off guard, " _Is it really already nine-thirty?"_

Francis continued, now speaking in a rough whisper, "The Brit has been trying to leave for over an hour, and I don't think I can persuade him to stay much longer."

Alfred quietly scorned himself, "I am so sorry Francis, I am leaving now. Can you try and stall for thirty more minutes? The drive is a little long."

There was a moment of silence from the other line. He could tell this was no simple request. Finally, Francis let out a frustrated sigh, "Ok, but no promises. You better be here in thirty minutes, or I'm letting his condescending ass leave."

A small feeling of guilt filled hovered above as those words reached his ears. It wasn't his fault he was late, but there was no way he could explain that to anyone, let alone Francis. "I will be there. Thank you." With that Alfred quickly placed the phone back on the counter and rushed to the door. He ran through his mental checklist to be one-hundred percent he had everything he needed, then ran straight to his car. He had thirty minutes to drive nearly twenty miles, a feat that is not easily accomplished, but if he missed this opportunity to see Arthur again, he would never forgive himself.

He pushed the key into the ignition and turned it forward. Carefully he placed his purchase from earlier on the passenger seat, ensuring himself that it would be safe from any damage on the drive over. He moved his hand to the gear stick but had a small heart attack when he realized he had forgotten to check whether he had remembered to grab a folded note off the counter. He frantically felt around his jacket until his fingers reached the tiny square safely tucked away inside one of the inner pockets. A small burst of confidence filled his mind. Once everything was secure, he threw the car in drive and immediately began to speed down the partially frozen road.

Twenty miles in thirty minutes was possible, though probably not the safest given the current conditions of the roads. However, Alfred did not care about the ice; he was going to disappear anyway, so why should he be careful on a slick road? His desperation motivated him to keep focused on the task at hand. The roads were clear, allowing him to take the drive at his desired pace. His car flew down asphalt, gliding under the star covered sky. He had to make it in time.


End file.
